She leads with licentious behavior
Like my ****** savior
I savor
Her thighs
I delight in her sighs
Her sexed up scent gets me high
Mounds of flesh
Soft *******
Tender tongue
Lashing
Like whips
Till I am throbbing from the hip
Till my gun comes
And I become
Unequipped
Resting with an empty barrel
Dripping slimy smoke
The last vestiges
Of trembling ecstasy
Wiped from her lustful smile

I wasn’t born with a door
I had to build one for myself
To keep out people like you
Who place me on a dusty shelf

i was born with broken bones
and sunken dna with a built-in carrying capacity much too small
for all the struggles
and the questions
of the world.
i am fragile i am limited
i scream every time a skin cell dies and i
was born
with soup for brains and runt nails that grow much too short
for all the questions
and the struggles
of the world.

I've got a friend
She truly is something
She's such a wonderful girl.

This wonderful girl
Feels dazed and confused
Overwhelmed and unequipped
To handle the trials
That lay ahead.

My wonderful friend
Is more wonderful
Than she'll ever know.

This wonderful girl
Is tough and capable
She can handle herself
In any fight.

However, my wonderful friends
THIS wonderful friend
Has been stripped
Of her pride
By societies jealous thieves.

My wonderful friend doesn't feel quite so wonderful
More So like she's meek, incapable, and unimportant.

Dear friends,
Allow me to set
The record straight.

That beautiful, amazing, strong, intelligent, incredibly wonderful girl is who that wonderful girl truly is.

Inside
&
Out

I am at a loss for words when she tells me that she’s not pretty. I try to tell her how wrong she is but I’ve already been labeled a liar and I can already hear the words passing through my lips and fading into the air like a plea of “not guilty”. I realize I’m not equipped for this. I’ve never known how to reassure people. I have such strong, misguided opinions on things, and all these high, impossible expectations for myself. Am I vain because I look in the mirror and search for a piece of myself to hold onto that feels real and right and pretty? I guess I judge other people, too. But I’ve never looked at her and wondered what parts were real. I’ve never wondered what she would look like if her nose was different, if her arms were different, if her lips were different, if her voice was different. It took me a while to realize that when I sit near her, I feel a person next to me. It was such a strange and new feeling. She turns her head towards me as she leaves a room and I understand why people start wars for women. But she’s already labeled me a liar and the moment has passed, and I can’t very well say all of this out loud. I don’t know what she thinks about me, but she rolls her eyes when I try to say what I feel and darts a doubting glare towards my confessions of insecurity all because I know how to hold a conversation with people on the street and I barely fill out a size 10. How funny, the one person who feels more to me like an actual person than anyone else doesn’t make me feel like one.

Wave after wave we rode the highs,
Steadying our footing before the next rise,
It all crashes into laughter and the salty foam,
Time flew by as the clouds framed the setting sun,
Lighting our path as the time came to head back home.

I lived in the fleeting moments loving the rush of being alive,
Forgetting about the dark night that lay over the horizon,
As we crossed the threshold back into our abode,
The interlude ended as the last light receded from the windows,
Leaving me in unattended in the murk of my thoughts.

Unequipped for the blackness that glared at me,
I searched for a glimmer of a forgotten dream,
There was once a fire that shone bright my hopes & ambitions,
Not even embers remain that I may stoke a new flame,
Aimlessly I move through the motions of the daily mundane.

Slowly collapsing under the unbearable weight,
Wishing that I could find meaning in life,
Or give up altogether and end it tonight,
"Why am I even here?" Echoes back at me from the dark,
I fear there is nothing else left for me here.

Bursting out of me,
like waves,
crahing against a distant shore,
my voice cascades wildly;
trilling and thrilling,
as it enraptures
and captures
the emotion of the tale yet to come.
Warbling,
and wavering,
the story unfolds-
a love concrete,
a life complete,
while time doth fleet,
and flitter away.
My passionate notes startle
the birds nearby,
silencing thier meager attempts
at music.
I am no virtuoso,
no child prodigy;
but the raw power
of my heart unrestrained
will put feathered tails
to the north
at the sound of my soul unleashed.
I sing;
not a question
or doubt
in my mind-
there is no audience to impress,
no friends to shame me into awkward silence.
I sing,
because I must release the fluttering creation
caged inside my soul;
unaltered,
it must emerge to outshine the stars,
to chase away the shadows that linger
in a waking mind.
I might offend with my noise,
my off notes,
and slaughtered choruses,
my silly screeching
that grates upon the ears;
but I am merely a vessel
containing these words and emotions,
unfortunately unequipped to perform justice
to these thoughts trapped within.
I sing
to empty myself
of these creative burdens,
these ideas that have a life of thier own
straining and pushing
to escape the walls that hold them here inside.
I sing-
because I can.

candlelight flickers
as shadows grow
we are but two
misfit, fit souls
unequipped both of us are
for grandiose dreams,
and me a beggar man seen,
in need of a morphine fix

eternally, especially since
you prepare to leave
but
I love you, Marjorie.
always will.....eternally

I long to kiss you. On your lips, on your heart, your soul. The inside being that trembles with light and energy. Open the space like a cavity able to be entered. Upon where a 50 foot drop ensues, to show the actual depth of your being. I have been here before but I never want to leave. I can only forget, that I have ever been here.

I want to kiss you on the inside. Softness and warmness against myself. Like enduring comfort of a welcome omnipresence.

Somehow it slips away, and that is true, as well. The heart of you is so transitory that it does nothing but constantly change and move away to other places. Some dark and some light. I cannot change you to desire one special, particular or sacred place.

It is that you turn your back, your sweet closed skin and become unaware of my presence, like you have forgotten me. And so I need to dive up, back up to the surface, to simply take a surviving breath. Your liquid oxygen is unequipped with sustenance beyond your attention. The persistence of my love is drowned out by your absence of mind.

© 2008

This zipper
Stays
Unzipped
It's stuck
I'm unequipped
For what
You
Are
Bound
To know
How low
Can
A person
Go?
I know
Because
That is
Where
I've been
Laying
Lying
How long
Has it
Been?
Months
Weeks
No one
Gets
In
Not because
I can't
But only
Because
I can
A man
A place
A time
A plan
It's not
Even worth
It
Anymore

I was humming to myself,
I often do now.
A way to distract my mind
From the clouds of thoughts
That ultimately rains as sadness.
I was humming and I was unequipped.
And the trouble with being oblivious
(An outcome of humming or doodling
Or daydreaming)
Is that we shut our defenses
And open ourselves to attack.
I was climbing up the stairs,
Hair dripping water
And wet clothes in one hand,
I was climbing up the stairs,
I was humming to myself
                                      Unarmed.

(A question- if we are unarmed
And see an armed person,
Is it necessary that person to be dangerous
To feel in danger?)

I moved the thick curtain,
A choice of my sister
I say,
I can't confess how I picked it too
But I hate its colour now.
I danced my fingers through
The waves of it,
All I wanted to reveal
Were the steps that continued
But there he was
                              A beast.

In a stance, staring right at me
In my own turf
He was questioning me.
He was the stranger not me.
He was the intruder not me.
But I was unarmed
And his claws dripped of dried blood
I pictured,
We stared at each other for
The nth of a second
That seemed like ages.
I was drowning in his eyes,
An effect of humming beforehand
I believe.
Then my mind snapped
Like a rubber band
Stretched too far for too long
And a scream
As shrill as that of a kid
Escaped my mouth.
Broke all my teeth
Parted my lips
Tore away my tongue
And I screamed with all my might.
(I feel it was all my fear
Rolling out all at once
At the slightest chance of an escape).

Whether my scream faded
Or did it stick to that very step
Or did my voice die down
I can't say,
But as fast as my heart beats,
I was down
Behind a glass door closed
And a wooden one slightly ajar,
I was now a captive in my own home.
My screams now words,
It's silly how human fears
Are better described by sounds
With ill fitted
                        words.

After moments gone,
Having gathered my strong,
Calm demeanor
I carry most of the time,
I grabbed a stick.
I swear I wouldn't
If it didn't just lay there
As a lonlely toy that needed holding.
I couldn't wield it to hit
I know,
But I could make some noise
As if my voice wouldn't have been enough,
The beast had ran
                                Too.

Listen to me, he is the dangerous one
Not me, not me ever.
I tapped the stick at the railings
As I climbed a step then another
All the way till the point
Where my scream lingered last.
I bobbed my head slightly ahead
Of my body,
The beast could tear my face off
But not my heart I reasoned.
There it was, a mess,
Milk, and rice,
Cereals, biscuits,
Containers open and spilled,
Things scattered but things I say,
To the hungry beast
                                - Food?

I climbed up the remaining stairs,
Following his footsteps,
The markings he left,
The dripping water off his soul.
Can I confess now,
The beast was a kid,
And his tiny hands couldn't hold on
To all the food he stole?
                                        Borrowed?
        ­                                                  Needed.
And finally at the door,
A whole packet of cookies
Lay there, like a star
That fell from the sky
Unhinged it dropped on the ground
Where it didn't belong.
I didn't pick it up I followed ahead,
He passed that door,
I concluded from where he
                                               Broke in?
                           Discovered through.

And went ahead to the bigger one
Where we welcomed guests
That neither belonged.
I shut that door,
Locked it now.
And came to my room.
Kept the stick aside,
Leaning it on the wall,
Like a dancer resting his feet.
And sat on the bed
                                  Evolved.

                 ­     I fought off a beast?
A beast scared off a hungry kid.

(I hope he managed to steal something away
At least bit into something before I intruded.)

Soldiers trying to escape the fire of my passion
unequipped,they are all gone.
King lost with a face of horror,
I have almost retreated.

It is foresworn
that the enemy will seat on the throne.
As he is about to abandon his crown by force,
he listens to the sweet melodic sound of might.
His soldiers may be walking towards Hades
but he decides to stand tall
and he starts  a new killing spree.

When I think my heart,my castle shall go on
my precious beam of hope  falls to the ground.
My marvellous king lies still next to my beaten dreams.

Oh foolish king,
had you allowed me to fight too,
a worn out castle would not not be now burning
in the hands of your rage.

She wanted to have a lover
That society wouldn't allow
She wanted to be married
But maybe not just now.
She wanted to have a baby
But she didn’t know how.
She wanted to be a wife
But she felt she was a cow.

Star crossed lover
All in one twisted person.
Stuck being a mother
Unequipped to be a good one.
Primitive cave dweller
Abandoned in modern time.
What she felt life did to her
Was an unfair personal crime.

Each time one would see her
Steam was building up inside;
A Vesuvius about to blow
Fire never banked, never died.
Walk on eggshells, careful words
Often not know what went wrong;
Something so carelessly said
As the disastrous day went along.

Maybe the child just said no
Or failed at some assigned chore.
Maybe the kid broke something
Or perhaps just slammed a door.
Then the punishment starts in
With screaming and foul names
Leaving welts and bruises in
Her standard sadistic game.

It would be so much better
If this was all an exaggeration.
But no, this is the ugly truth
So please take a suggestion.
Before we force another
Generation just like the rest,
Let’s make intended parents
Take a psychological test.

A chameleon's ability to camouflage itself is a fear response. Something in its environment is detected as a threat, and instead of confronting it, it retreats and changes its colours. I am this way, too. I have been this way my entire life. The fear of not knowing who I am, of feeling as though I do not belong anywhere at all, has led me to change the very core of my being- again and again. I cannot stop this pattern. A pattern that is driven by boredom, the Devil's favourite play thing. If, like me, you're unequipped to deal with boredom (and it doesn't matter how many knives you have), you'll notice how quickly it's presence will mutate itself until it turns into a chronic emptiness. I spend most days trying to fill myself with anything at all, only to reach in a few hours later, grab whatever it was I deemed oh-so-interesting at the time, and hurl it right back to where it came from. My hands have grown tired and rough in the process.

My memories of you don’t seem to age
I can still remember your full name
I can’t seem to forget
And it’s the one thing I regret
Thoughts flash like lightning
And leave just as quick
I drown in them
Sink all the way to the bottom
Like a damage battleship  
Unequipped with life rafts
This wasn’t a war I expected to lose
But you out witted and tricked me
**** these human emotions
I quit
I can either live being taunted my these vision of you
Or set ablaze this dynamite stick
And blow myself into oblivion

My sharp teeth grip livid bruises onto my tongue
Never saying what I'd like to portray

I am incapable of transferring my emotions into language
My only apparatus is "my mind" and it's unequipped for this life

Maybe I am incompetent?
But surely, there is a way to use my time peacefully...

Words just spill out onto the screen of my laptop
And suddenly it becomes a subject I had no preparation for

If I saw my grandma today I’d hug her and tell her I understand
I understand why words of affection fell from your lips like young birds unequipped to fly
Why I the love yous were more gestures than genuine
Of courses it was there, it had to be.
that need to remind that you choose life was your receipt for its price
Cause it cost you your youth and taxed your marriage
You meant well, but when you’re a straight shooter there’s bound to be miscues
How can you expect a kid to sail across troubled waters when their sails are clipped by sharp deterring words
Your eyes distant with lack of recognition but you expect connection
A gaze filled with disgust cause you look in the mirror and you don’t like what you see.
A reflection of you that can’t be recognized
Grandma who hurt you?
I know who hurt my mom, but who hurt you?

The winter wisps have choked my neck,
Taking every breath has left me unequipped for death.

I watch my world spin and loose all control
What can be salvaged from inside my soul?

I don't intend
to travel far
the hour of reckoning
is now and can't wait
even unequipped and unready
I'll hold my ground
I won't quit
even if I don't prevail
I'll still celebrate
for life could never be evaded
and against the odds
I've fearlessly fought

it's not lack of strength or courage
that breaks the human spirit
but paucity of will and patience
to win is not the goal
it's the moving-forth
the never-yielding grip
the staying-power
the holding-on
and not to slip

I fear not my frailty
it gives me strength
no ally do I seek
nor do favour I ask
human am I
I recognise
my vulnerability
but would never bow
to unjust authority
or haughty power

it's folly
to aim
to be heroic
I would rather choose
to be stoic

even as a tiny leaf
into the violent sea blown
I'll keep myself afloat
amidst the raging waves
I'll not yield or moan

each life
is lived
in the single
and particular
not the general

here I am
tossed
by the winds
of fate

myself I own
I must survive
all alone.

Like the yeast,
that has yet to rise.
The words on a page,
and their delayed revise.

I too was written out
plain as day
with mad intent
-- mom and pop --  
a beginning, middle, and haphazard end.
Clusters of uninformed DNA
seared its way into my kaleidoscope veins.

Two writers unequipped to write,
with nary a forethought to revise.
Like the great poets before me,
who allowed their words to
go unfinished and unchecked,
The forgotten dotted i's
misspelled letters,
unwashed sweaters &
yesterdays newspapers

And although that exists,
and always will,
I have been struck with
the unmistakable urge
to turn my pen inwards,
drawing ink from
the star stained ether,
to revise, rehash and reword
the words of my creators --
clumsy writers at best.
-- mom and pop --

As I march into my
maddening edit,
no longer the work of writers who
have forgotten to revise me,
I reach to become the most unforgotten novel
on your most forgotten bookshelf.